


I Know You Care

by serohtonin



Series: Let It Unfold [1]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Heavy Angst, Infidelity, M/M, Rimming, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serohtonin/pseuds/serohtonin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren supports Chris at the "Struck by Lightning" premiere, leading to a revelation that Chris can't quite believe, and one intense night that brings far more complications than either of them imagined. Title taken from the Ellie Goulding song of the same name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know You Care

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own no one, and claim nothing to be true.

_Turn._

"Darren!"

_Step a little to the right._

"Darren!"

_A little to the left._

"Darren, here!"

_Smile. Keep smiling._

He performs all the proper motions as various photographers and reporters yell his name through the cacophony of the crowd. He doesn't get why they're calling him; it's Chris' premiere, but Darren poses anyway, like he's done at every other event he's attended.

Of course, Darren doesn't see Chris anywhere for quite a while, not until the party after the premiere. He spots Chris from across the room, chatting with someone that Darren can't discern because there are other people blocking his view.

Chris smiles brightly, and then doubles over in laughter, appearing that much more stunning in his dark suit and signature skinny tie. He's so handsome, especially here in his element, and, really, it's so fucking cliché, but Darren's breath catches for a second.

Of course, he probably wouldn't willingly admit that to Chris, if Chris would even listen to something like that without laughing him off entirely. In fact, Chris _had_ laughed him off. Even if by then, they had been ice skating for hours, and they were deliriously tired, that didn't make Darren's attempted confession any less true. It didn't make it any less true the time before that in Battery Park, or the time before that at Chris' house.

Regardless, Darren's here to support his friend, so he shakes those memories away and makes conversation with Harry and Max; he even catches up with Lauren Potter for a bit. Then he manages to talk to some of Chris' cast members from the film, which only serve to remind Darren of how brilliant Chris is once the topic drifts toward the movie.

He's not sure how much time has passed, but he finally snatches Chris by the back of his jacket. "Hey, man! Aren't you gonna take a picture with me?"

"Why, hello to you, too," Chris grins.

"I'd _really_ like a picture with internationally known writer and producer Chris Colfer, please," he returns with his own grin, letting his hand slip down Chris' back.

Chris clears his throat, a faint blush rising on his cheeks when Darren's hand rests on the small of his back. "Darren." His tone sounds like a warning.

Darren's brow furrows. "What?" he asks softly, examining Chris' suddenly serious expression, but before Chris can reply, Harry's rushing over to them.

"Hey, the man of the hour, er, night, actually." He shakes Chris' hand and pulls him in for a half hug. "Congrats! Long time, no see. Dude, how have you been?"

"Never better." Chris beams, looking over at Darren, and then back at Harry. "I feel like a proud papa."

"You should be. The movie was awesome," Harry answers.

"Yeah, I totally agree," Darren adds, unconsciously gripping Chris' jacket. "You should be so fucking proud of it."

"Thanks, both of you," Chris answers, still smiling but rolling his shoulders in a subtle attempt to shrug Darren off. "It means a lot to me that you guys are here."

Darren loosens his grip in realization, but doesn't let go, instead patting Chris' back. He gazes at Chris, but Chris' eyes are trained on Harry. "'Course. I wouldn't have missed it, Chris," Darren chimes in. "Not for anything. You're so amazing that you put us all to shame with your talent."

Harry playfully punches Darren in the arm. "Speak for yourself."

Darren raises a hand in defense. "All I'm saying is it's Chris' night. How many feature-length films did you write and star in by his age, huh?"

"Meh, point taken."

"Okay, I'll leave you two old men alone, then," Chris jokes, raising an eyebrow at Darren.

"Wait, wait, a picture? Pict _ures_? Please?" Darren asks, grinning.

"Yeah, pictures, Chris," a nearby photographer seconds.

"All right, all right, but I'm a wanted man tonight. Only a few."

"I'll bet you are," Darren winks at Chris.

He smiles back tightly, and turns to the camera right before it flashes.

Harry stays for some snapshots, but then ventures out into the crowd.

"What?" Darren asks for the second time tonight. "What was that about? Why are you being like this?"

Chris opens his mouth to say something, and again, someone interrupts them, Max this time. The three pose for more photos, Darren settling his palm in the middle of Chris' back.

After they all chat for a bit, Max departs.

Darren squeezes Chris' shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." He smiles again, but Darren can tell it's that fake public smile, not the crinkly, bright one from earlier.

Darren's hand falls away from Chris. "You wanna talk about it later, or--?"

"I don't know. N--not here. Not tonight, I don't think. Sorry."

"Wh--No, it's okay. You don't have to explain anything to me if you don't want to."

"I know."

Darren tries to ignore the magnetic pull to grab Chris' hand or comfort him somehow but when he sees the unease on Chris' face, he feels like he shouldn't. Maybe that's not what Chris needs right now. "I didn't mean to upset you, especially tonight, of all nights."

"I know. Believe me, I know. I--I should get going."

"Uh, alright. You're really important to me, and, I'm here if you need me."

"Okay, Darren," Chris sighs, shifting from foot to foot. "I really have to go."

"'Kay."

His chest tightens as he watches Chris turn on his heel and venture back to the other attendees.

\----

Darren knocks back a few drinks after that, chats up some more people, and even turns on the charm with some of them, flirting voraciously in an effort to drown out what Chris' actions may or may not have symbolized, and how Darren may or may not feel about said actions (annoyed and more than a little hurt, if he's being honest with himself).

Darren knows he's a very tactile person and that Chris hasn't always been, but he's warmed to Darren, or at least he thought Chris had.

But wouldn't Chris tell him if he was that uncomfortable?

He didn't seem too uncomfortable that night at Bryant Park, every time Darren lightly touched him to stop his adorable flailing. Granted there were a ton of people around, and they were wearing their characters half the time, but still.

What was so different about tonight?

He remembers practicing out on the ice, the exhausted smiles shining on both their faces.

_"Still going strong," Chris said to Darren's phone screen._

_Darren clicked to stop recording and tried to steady his shaking fingers. If he told Chris what he wanted to tell him, everything would change. "Chris, I--"_

_"We have to get back to work. Quit fooling around, and let's go."_

_"Chris--"_

_"C'mon, guys," the director called from the side of the rink. "Let's wrap this."_

_"Yeah, I'm about to collapse. Let's do this," Chris smiled softly._

_"You need to know something."_

_"Can it wait? I want to get these damn things off soon before I have to have them surgically removed from my feet."_

_Darren shook his head. "Yeah. Yeah, sure."_

_"Places, guys! Cue the music!" someone shouted a few feet away._

_Darren sighed, but began the take once they were in position._

_He never got to finish what he wanted to say to Chris; he only congratulated him on another job well done, as he often did when they had to work with only each other in a scene._

_Chris always blushed and returned the sentiment. He's always been talented, and humble, which, at this point, made it all the more difficult for Darren to deny his own feelings._

_But deny he did, squelched down what he could, even when they were red-faced and finally completed filming._

_"So, what did you wanna say before?" Chris asked as they took off their skates. "You sounded kinda serious for a minute there."_

_"Oh, um, it doesn't really matter."_

Except it did, but Darren wouldn't let that affect how he acted around Chris.

Until right now, apparently, on a night that was special to Chris.

Still, Darren wasn't acting super possessive or crazy. He knew he had no right to that, in any circumstance.

He did, however, want to voice his concerns to Chris, if he could find the other man among the mass of people.

He downed another drink while waiting, and then Chris seemed to appear not too soon after that.

"Hey, Chris!"

"Hi!" A genuine smile seems to have returned to his face since they had parted.

"You look really good tonight, y'know."

Chris' mouth straightens out to a tight line. "Darren, please don't."

"Don't what? Tell you that I think you look dashing in that suit? Is that against some rule or something?"

"No, but--"

"But what?"

"I know what you're doing, Darren."

He looks at Chris incredulously. "I don't even know what I'm doing. How do you know what I'm doing?"

"Yes, you do."

"Well," Darren's eyes narrow, "I was gonna ask you why you were acting all weird earlier."

"That's not what I mean."

"What do you mean, then?"

"You think I don't know?"

"Don't know what? I'm not following, Chris."

"I'm not obtuse, Darren. I've seen you look at me, when you think I'm not looking." His gaze flickers down Darren's face.

Darren swallows. "I--I never said you were. Quite the opposite, actually. Honestly, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"That's such bullshit. Of course you do."

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"You're changing the subject."

 _"Do I?”_ Darren carefully leans toward him. “Is that why you were pulling away from me?"

He adjusts his tie, though it's already straight. "I know what you've been trying to tell me for months."

Darren steps forward, and licks his lips. He gingerly grasps Chris' elbow, which could be dangerous, now that he understands why the other man might have been recoiling earlier, but, _fuck it._ Maybe it's time to own up to his feelings, anyway. "What have I been trying to tell you, huh?" he challenges.

"I think," Chris sighs, his eyes drawn down to where Darren's touching him, "you should tell me yourself and stop playing games."

"'s not a game, I swear. I didn't want--" Darren looks away for a second. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I never planned on having feelings for you."

"So it's true? I thought it couldn't possibly be, but, you actually have a crush on me?"

He steps a little closer, lowering his voice. "Don't cheapen it like that. That's not what it is."

"What else could it be?" Chris' breath hitches as Darren's hand caresses up Chris' bicep and stops at his shoulder. "Clearly, you're mistaking your fondness for something it isn't."

"No, no, that's not--Stop trying to rationalize this, because I sure as hell can't, and don't you dare," he squeezes Chris' shoulder, "try to tell me what I'm feeling."

"I'm sorry. I'm just saying I--"

"Don't 'just say' anything." His hand drifts up to Chris' neck. “Let me explain."

"I don't think you're in the right frame of mind to explain anything. How much did you have to drink?"

"I'm still talkin' right now, yeah? 'm perfectly fine." His other hand reaches out for Chris' side as he stumbles forward. "Besides, that wouldn’t make anything I said less true." 

"That's what I'm afraid of." He grabs the hand resting on his side. "You always mean what you say."

"So, please," Darren holds tight to Chris' hand, "listen to me."

"I can't do this right now." He pushes Darren's hand away. 

"You can't? Then what are we doing here?"

Chris' eyes seem to appraise Darren's figure thoughtfully, but only for a few seconds. "I was going to go, actually."

"No, don't. Don't leave again. Chris, at least, come have a drink. Celebrate with me."

"I think you've had enough for one night."

"How 'bout I hang out with you, while _you_ have a drink? Please."

Chris takes a look around. “It isn’t only you and me here, y’know.”

“So? It's not that strange for us to talk to each other, Chris.”

“Yeah, but we aren’t some random strangers in a bar. You can’t, like, hit on me here.”

“Oh, is that I was doing?” he asks facetiously.

 _“'You look really good tonight, I’ll bet you are a wanted man,'”_ Chris mocks him with an exaggerated wink.

“Those are harmless enough comments coming from me. I mean, really,” Darren shrugs, his thumb running across the back of Chris’ hand.

“But you say those things where everyone can hear. There are already rumors. And the way you’re touching me right now, what do you think this’ll look like?” Chris pulls his hand away, his voice lowering.

“Oh, so, all of a sudden, you’re worried about what this looks like? Because what it would look like, to me, is two friends sharing a normal conversation.”

“Except it’s not a normal conversation and you know it.There’s something happening here.”

“There is?” Darren asks hopefully.

He takes Darren's other hand off his shoulder. “I--I should get back.”

“Chris, c’mon. Stay with me, at least for a little while. Don’t walk away from this.”

“I have to go,” Chris answers, almost resigned.

“Wait.” He grabs Chris’ wrist. “Come home with me.”

“What? Have you lost your mind?”

“When we’re alone, we can be us,” he whispers in Chris’ ear, "We can talk about this some more, or we can be those random strangers, whatever you want.”

“What I want, is to enjoy the rest of this party.”

“So, is that a yes or a no?”

Chris hesitates before replying, “I--we shouldn’t.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I'll think about it."

\----

Darren waits for the rest of the party for Chris to approach him, because he wants to let him decide what he really wants, but he doesn’t show. Instead, he watches Chris entertain all the studio executives and various people involved with making the film, and then Darren quietly leaves.

He shrugs off his jacket and strips down to his boxers, getting ready for bed, when there’s a knock on the door.

Figuring Joey forgot his key again, he reluctantly gets up and pads over to the door. “Shit, this really needs to...stop,” he trails off when he sees who’s on the other side. “Chris.”

“Hi.”

He gulps and stares at Chris, his face flushed, tie askew, and jacket unbuttoned. “Hey. I thought--”

“One night, okay?” 

“Chris, I, I don’t know--”

Chris steps inside. “You said we could be random strangers. So, please, just do this for me. Please.” He closes the door, and presses his palm low on Darren's stomach. "You're the one who suggested it."

“Actually, you sort of did, and I didn't think you'd take me up on it. We--we should talk about this first.”

“I don't want to."

"But, Chris, you know that -I-"

"I know that you want this. I couldn't stop thinking about you for the rest of the night, and I'm so exhausted, I was going to go home, but," his fingers creep up Darren's chest, "I came up with a better alternative."

Darren looks down at Chris' fingers, and then back up to his face, wondering how Chris' opposition to his earlier advances has suddenly dissolved and been replaced with confidence. He's also wondering why he's even questioning anything when Chris is standing in his living room, offering something he's been dreaming of for months. "Yeah? What'd you have in mind?"

"First, you tell me your name, handsome." He raises an eyebrow and unties his tie.

He stares for a few moments, watches Chris' nimble fingers, all the possibilities flashing through his head at once, those fingers digging into Darren's hips while Chris blows him, or gripping the back of his head when they're kissing roughly and he's _thisclose_ to being inside him. 

"Darren," he finally responds, deciding to play along. "I thought I told you back at the bar. Why would I give you an address and not my name? Chris, right?"

"Maybe you’re an escort and you thrive on anonymity or something. I don’t know. Yeah. That’s my name."

“Well, I’m not a hooker, or anything like that, Chris, if that’s what you’re wondering. Although acting is sort of like that sometimes. Anyway," he shakes his head, "I wouldn't ask just anyone back to my apartment, only those I find attractive, and I find you,” he runs his hand underneath Chris’ collar and kisses the spot behind his ear, “very, very attractive.”

“Oh, yeah?” his voice drops, almost betraying his persona.

“Uh huh. Wait, don't I know you from somewhere? You look kinda familiar," he grins charmingly.

Chris throws his jacket over the couch and chuckles wryly under his breath, "That's not important. What matters is that I'm taking you up on your invitation."

"I'm glad you are."

Chris unbuttons his shirt and pulls Darren close. “And fortunately, you’re not looking for payment, because I don’t think I could afford you.” He initiates a kiss, soft and tentative at first, but then his tongue slips past Darren's lips, and he can't help kissing Chris back more fervently.

“For you, I might consider reducing my prices,” he answers breathlessly, once their lips part.

"Good." Chris slots a knee between Darren's legs, nudging at his groin. "I'm not sure you'd be worth it."

Darren grunts, "I totally would be. You'll see."

His lips brush against the curve of Darren's neck, and he gently pushes him toward the bedroom. "Prove it."

Darren pulls Chris by his open lapels, awkwardly kissing him again as he walks them backwards in the direction of his room. "I intend to."

Chris pushes him down on the bed when they reach the bedroom and shamelessly takes in every inch of Darren's nearly naked form, as if Darren's on display.

Darren squirms under Chris' hungry gaze, his cock twitching in interest. He grows even harder watching Chris strip off his shirt and undershirt, fully revealing the skin that Darren has only seen slivers of until now. His mouth waters when Chris stands there in his underwear, biting his lip.

He wants to be the one biting that lip, or sucking at the pale flesh of Chris' stomach, or his thigh. Really, he'd like his mouth anywhere on this man, sooner rather than later. "C'mere," Darren quietly commands, in a deeper-than-usual voice.

Chris stalks toward him, a smirk plastered on his face. He lays on top of Darren, licking around one of his nipples, and then the other, slowly kissing down his chest until he reaches the waistband of Darren's boxers.

Darren can barely make out the glint in Chris' gray eyes in the darkness as he looks up and snaps the band against Darren's skin. Chris licks his lips and mouths at the shape of Darren's cock through his boxers.

"Fuck, Chris." 

"Yeah, is that what you want? Do you want to fuck me?" he breathes against the cloth. "Or do you want me to fuck you?" His eyes dart up from Darren's erection to his dark amber eyes.

He runs his fingers through Chris' hair. "Which would you prefer, gorgeous?"

“Um, I already have you spread out underneath me,” Chris’ fingers scratch at Darren’s inner thigh, beneath his boxers, “so, the only logical choices would be for me to fuck you so hard you'll feel it for days...”

Darren’s fingers tighten in Chris’ hair. He didn't think he would want this option, but he really, really does.

“...or for me to ride you. Frankly, I’d prefer the former.” He strokes at Darren’s cock over his boxers.

“Yeah, I’d--I’d like that, too. Shit. Come up here.”

“No,” his eyes widen as he peels off Darren’s boxers, his erection springing up, “I think I like the view from down here.”

“Fuck you,” Darren smiles, but quickly starts moaning when Chris sucks at one of his balls.

“Maybe I will,” he answers after taking the other one in his mouth. “Maybe I won’t,” his fingertips circle Darren’s asshole.

"I--I have some lube. Could you," Darren looks down briefly, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice as he reaches into his nightstand, "please keep touching me?"

He hands the bottle to Chris.

"Oh, honey, have you not done this before?" He starts dryly stroking Darren's cock with one hand.

Darren shakes his head, and then answers, "N--no." His heart jumps at Chris' sentiment, though he knows it probably didn't mean anything.

Chris' hooded eyes, focusing on the task at hand, trail up to Darren's face. "You still wanna do this?"

He notices Chris' gaze softens a bit, still just as hungry, but something lingering underneath. "Yeah, I do."

They stare at each other for a moment, Chris swallowing hard, and his eyes shining, but Chris continues before Darren can comment on it. "Well, then, I'm gonna need you to turn around. Get on your hands and knees." Chris backs up, Darren already missing his touch.

Darren follows the instructions, leaning on his forearms with his ass in the air. He somehow feels more vulnerable than before, laid out like this where he can't see what his partner is doing, so he turns his head to find Chris stepping out of his underwear. He drinks in this sight, despite the awkward angle. Chris is long and lean, but still subtly muscular, with strong arms and a broad chest, a brilliant blush sweeping across his pale skin.

"I'm still here, I promise." He strides back over, kneeling between Darren's legs. "Lemme get you ready, okay?"

"Okay." Darren’s still staring, and the blush on Chris’ cheeks deepen.

“Could you not look,” he clears his throat, “please?”

He aims for a seductive tone when he replies, "I can't help it. You're really hot."

"I'm serious."

"Fine, Mr. Serious," Darren smirks, coaxing a tiny grin from Chris. He looks away, as Chris asked, and suddenly, Chris' hands roam his ass.

"I know we hardly know each other, Darren, but, um, I'd like to try something, if it's alright with you."

 _Oh, right,_ Darren reminds himself, _we're supposed to be strangers._

"Yeah? What is it?"

"I want to put my mouth on you. Like, on your ass, if you're clean, that is."

Darren swallows, his neglecting cock aching. "Yeah, yeah. I'm clean. Do it."

Without any further words, Chris flattens his tongue against Darren's asshole.

It's a wet, hot pressure that he's not used to feeling there, but it’s indescribable, better than anything else they've done so far. He pushes back against it and gropes for his own cock. He begins jerking himself off as Chris' tongue continues to circle him. Then, there are fingers spreading him open, and warm wetness dipping inside him.

"Oh, oh, shit." Darren strokes himself faster while Chris' tongue swirls inside him. As soon as Darren finds a good rhythm and thinks he might come just from this, Chris slips out of him.

Darren twists his neck around and raises his eyebrows. "Dude, what are you doing? Don’t fucking stop."

"That wasn't the main event, y'know. We're only beginning."

“I know, but you’re so--your tongue is fucking magical."

Chris laughs, "You're probably the strangest person I've ever met."

"Says the man who practically tongue fucked me, and did an amazing job, I might add. I bet you're good at everything you do. Oh, ohh," he exclaims as a blunt, slender digit presses inside him.

"How's that?"

"Mmm, okay."

"How about now?"

Somehow he seems to press even deeper.

Darren scrunches his face. "Better. It hurts a little, but, um, ohhhh, uhhh, yeah."

"Something tells me that making you speechless is no easy feat." He takes his finger out, adds more lube, and slips two fingers inside.

"Deeper. C'mon," is all he answers, pushing back against Chris' fingers.

Chris crooks his fingers until he finds the spot that elicits more delicious noises from Darren. "These things, mmm," his lips ghost over the middle of Darren's back, "take time. Patience."

Darren shivers at the kiss. "Ugh, fuck. Just do it already." He reaches for the lube, intending to continue jerking himself off and relieve his throbbing dick and ass, but Chris swats his hand away.

"Ah, ah, ah. I _said_ patience." Chris' other hand curls around Darren's cock.

He always knew Chris had nice hands (he often stared at them longer than what was considered appropriate or necessary) but having one slickly wrapped around him feels like heaven. Now that Chris is on him, around him, and inside him, overloading his sense of touch, he doesn't know where to move, to push forward into his fist or back onto his fingers, especially when he’s rubbing precome all over the slit of his cock.

"Patience? You must be, ahh, joking."

“I kid you not, Mr.- uh, Darren. You think you can handle it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck me.”

“Oh, okay. I thought I already was, but okay.”

“Yeah, but I wanna come with you, with your dick inside me.”

“Wow, that's not what I expected at all from you.” He strokes his fingers a few more times, and then pulls out. “Do, you, have, um, condoms?”

Darren lets out a breath, feeling empty as soon as Chris’ fingers leave him. He scrambles in his drawer for said items. “Yeah, of course.” I’ll give you anything you want. He stretches an arm out to give it to Chris; when their fingers brush, it feels so intimate that he has to look back. “Um, yeah.”

"So you said. Turn around."

"But I want--"

"Turn around."

He hardly got to do anything after Chris took control, which has honestly been really hot, but he wants to at least touch Chris a little more. He doesn't feel like arguing, though, when they're about to get each other off, and he's so close to release.

So he turns away.

"I'm gonna go slow, okay?" He hears the wrapper tearing, and a bottle flicking open.

" 'Kay."

Chris guides the tip of his cock inside.

"Ahh, ahh," Darren winces. He feels so full already and even with the prepping, he wonders how it'll fit, and if he'll even last long enough to feel all of Chris inside him.

"Is that--?"

"K--keep going."

He simply grabs Darren's hips in answer, inching himself in further.

"Oh, oh! That's-- that feels so good."

When Chris is all the way inside, balls flush to Darren's ass, Darren feels like he's about to burst out of his skin, like every nerve ending of his body is on fire.

"Fucking, move already, Chris."

He responds by slowly stroking Darren's cock again.

"Unhh, n-not what I meant."

“I know.”

He could practically hear the smirk in Chris’ voice.

Not too soon after, he pulls out almost all the way and slams back in, his hand squeezing Darren’s hip hard, and somehow, still stroking him.

“Ow, unhh, fuck,” Darren cries out, gripping the sheets underneath him.

Chris pulls back out, dragging his lips across his back, sort of tenderly, if Darren isn’t mistaken, and then he thrusts back in, all tenderness replaced with low, guttural groans he’s never heard from Chris before. It’s shockingly masculine and surprisingly hot in a way that Darren never thought he’d like, and probably wouldn’t like out of anyone else.

Chris strokes at him a few more times, creating a perfect rhythm with his thrusts, and suddenly, Darren’s coming, white hot streaks streaming across his sheets, Chris still fucking him through it.

Chris' hand falls away from his dick, and lazily rests by Darren's side as Chris continues to fuck into him, until he stills, and releases, with a moan.

Darren collapses onto his stomach when Chris pulls out. He hears Chris' breathing behind him, but then he sounds like he's getting further away.

"Chris, wait," he ekes out.

"Relax, I'm tossing the mess out. Er, next to your bed for now 'cause I don't know where the trash is."

"Your mess, maybe. You're not stuck to your own bed."

A weight dips the mattress right next to Darren. He opens an eye to find Chris flat on his back beside him.

Chris laughs quietly, before they both stop speaking for a while, their breathing the only sounds filling the room.

Darren blindly traces his fingertips up and down Chris' chest.

"Dare," he sighs.

"What?"

"Please, don't."

"Don't what, touch you? So, you can come in my ass, but I can't touch you?"

"I don't want to do this right now."

He turns on his side to survey Chris, who looks completely wrecked, his chest heaving, and God, he wants to lick the sweat off of him, though he's pretty sure Chris wouldn't appreciate it at the moment.

Darren knows he should say, _We might have to talk about this in the future._ They should talk about it now, actually, but instead he stares at Chris, naked in his bed, and so, so gorgeous because he doesn't know when he'll be afforded this opportunity again.

"Wh--Sure. Fine," Darren finally replies, snatching his hand away before he sprawls onto his back and passes out.

\----

A few hours later, his room is bathed in blue early morning light, and he's alone.

The only evidence of a visitor is a tie left hanging off the edge of his dresser.

\----

They're back to work several days later and they don't have any scenes together, so they only see each other from across the lot, passing between sets, or in quick runs to their respective trailers.

Darren wants to let Chris know that he forgot his tie the other day, because at least that's an excuse to talk to him (and wow, he needs excuses to talk to Chris now? He's usually not this inept in awkward situations) but he left it at home so he can't even give it to him.

Still, he tries anyway, but as soon as Chris sees him coming, he turns the other way.

Well, fuck.

\----

He texts Chris after a couple days of this nonsense.

_So, can we talk about why you've been avoiding me?_

There are two quick texts in response.

_No._

_I haven't been avoiding you. We just have different schedules._

"Ugh, that's such bullshit," he says out loud to himself, and texts very similar words to Chris, adding:

_I'm not mad that you left, but maybe we should be adults and talk about this, since we'll have to work together soon._

_Also, because I want to be your friend again._

Chris answers:

_Haha you being an adult?_

_Are you sure you want my friendship?_

Darren almost texts back, but calls instead. Chris picks up after three rings.

" 'Course. Why wouldn't I want to be your friend?" Darren says in lieu of a greeting.

_"Because I know how you feel, and I took advantage of that."_

"I thought we weren't talking about it, and you did not take advantage of me. I was totally willing and consenting."

_"I guess I figured you wouldn't give up until we addressed it. Still, you consented to quite a lot, and you were half-drunk."_

"I was not half-drunk, and I would have done it fully sober," he mutters, looking down. "I wouldn't mind doing it again."

_"Yes, you were kinda drunk, and we're not doing it again, remember?"_

"That's a moot point, because like I said, I would have done it either way." After a brief moment, he continues, "I know why I did what I did, mostly. What was your motivation in fucking me into oblivion?"

Chris pointedly avoids the question, instead commenting, _"Oblivion? I hope that means it was good."_

"You have no idea, Chris. Where did you--how did you--why? I mean, I'm definitely not complaining, but why?"

_"Do you ever get tired of being who you are?"_

"Sometimes, yeah, I guess. Hey, you can't answer my question with a question."

_"Just think about it."_

Chris hangs up after that.

\----

They don't talk much after that, not as much as they used to, but Darren does grin whenever he passes by Chris at work, garnering a mix of reactions from Chris each time. Sometimes he'll scowl into his coffee or Diet Coke, but on other rare occasions he'll look up and smile back.

Darren relishes the latter; apparently, his own feelings haven't lessened at all, even knowing nothing will probably ever happen again. He's still kind of perplexed about Chris' recent behavior, including how he acted during their one night stand. He suddenly remembers Chris' question:

_Do you ever get tired of being who you are?_

Would they have had more than just one night if they weren't Darren Criss and Chris Colfer from "Glee," or if Darren hadn't allowed almost everyone he's recently met to assume certain things, because it seemed so much easier than explaining?

All these thoughts echo through his head as a stylist gets him and Joey ready for the SAG Awards. She leaves and Darren adjusts his perfectly straight bowtie.

"Hey, you okay?" Joey nudges him with an elbow. "Your tie's fine, by the way."

He looks at his friend seriously. "Have I changed?"

"Yeah. You're wearing a fancy suit and you weren't thirty minutes ago."

"C'mon, I mean," he glances over at his friend, "have I really changed?"

"Well, yeah, a little, but we all change to some degree every single day. Why are you asking?"

He lets it all out in one big breath, "Everything's all fucked up and I don't know what's happening, or why, or if maybe something was different--"

"Wait, wait. Slow down. What _is_ happening?"

"I have feelings for someone that I've known for quite a while. More than friendship feelings."

"Oh, so, that's why you invited me as your date? Are you finally going to admit your feelings for me, among all the fancy suits and the booze? You've always been such a romantic, Darren." He pretends to swoon by placing a hand over his heart and sighing.

"Not you, asshole. I think you know who I mean, and if I wasn't who I am, if we weren't who we were, then maybe it could be really great."

"Go after 'em anyway. Since when do you care about who you are? That's all Hollywood bullshit."

"Since he already said we're not having sex again. I have to let it go. We'll have to stay friends."

"You're not--? _Again?_ When did you--Who is he?"

"Take a wild guess. It doesn't matter. I'm letting it go."

"Letting it go? Wow, this is really important to you, huh? This thinly veiled vagueness is not like you at all."

 _"He's_ really important to me. Let's get to the show," he replies sourly.

\----

His sour mood only worsens when he, his castmates, and their dates finally sit down to start the awards ceremony, and he spots Chris a couple seats away from him, with a very handsome-looking guest.

Darren does his slightly rehearsed introduction to the show, and then grumbles as he swallows down his drink. Joey catches Darren's eye, the former subtly tilting his head toward Chris and his date absorbed in conversation and laughter. Darren mouths _letting it go_ before he gets up for another drink.

He downs the entire drink at the bar, and goes back to the table, attempting to enjoy the rest of the ceremony, but his eyes seem to periodically drift over to Chris and the man with him, who have gotten close and giggly.

Darren's seething when he looks over for the fifth time and catches an unreadable expression in Chris' bright blue eyes.

"Excuse me," Darren addresses everyone at the table but maintains eye contact with Chris. The elder slides his chair out and rushes over to the bathroom in attempt to calm down and not say or do something really stupid. He leans down and rests his hands on either side of the cool porcelain sink, thinking he's not doing a very good job of letting anything go.

Not too soon after, Darren looks up into the mirror to see Chris standing behind him.

"Darren, I'm sorry."

He turns to face Chris. "Sorry, for what? For fucking me, and giving some lame explanation about how we can never do it again, or for the mixed signals you've been sending me the past couple weeks?"

"The second one, I guess. I don't regret that night, although I could've approached it in a different way."

"You also could've told me you were bringing a date tonight. It's like I don't understand you at all anymore." Rage is swirling in his stomach as he stares at Chris, who's still as stunning as ever in his navy blue suit, maybe even more so than at Chris' movie premiere.

"I'm sorry about that, too, but he's so sweet, and good to me, and uncomplicated. I don't need any more complicated things in my life."

"So that's what I am, a complication? Why'd you even start anything with me, then, especially knowing how I feel?"

"Maybe," he doesn't meet Darren's eyes, instead looking down at his shoes, "I wanted to step outside of _us_ for a little bit and know what it would feel like to be with you, without all the other shit."

"You mean, without all the messy _feelings?"_

Chris lets out a deep sigh. "No, that's not what I mean. We should get back."

"You can't keep leaving me without a full explanation." He clutches Chris' hand desperately.

"Please."

"Darren," he hisses under his breath.

"What? Are you afraid that people will suspect something?" He pulls Chris closer and whispers, "Because you know they already do."

His eyes search Darren's face and linger on his mouth before he answers, "I have a date, Darren."

"And you know I can't stand it." He can't resist adding, "Are you fucking him?"

"That doesn't matter."

"It kinda does, if you say things like you wanna be with me, and then you go back out there and act like nothing is happening between us. Tell me, do you let him touch you?" Suddenly, a rush of adrenaline hits him and he's pushing Chris into a stall and locking it behind them.

"You're acting crazy right now."

"Maybe I am. Maybe I'm afraid of losing you, and I don't want to just be friends." He backs Chris against the wall and kisses him.

Chris sucks in a surprised breath, and then clutches the front of Darren's jacket and kisses him back.

Darren untucks one side of Chris' shirt, his fingertips pressing into the skin right above the waist of Chris' pants. "Tell me to stop."

"Darren," he whispers, "don't stop."

He bathes in the fading scent of Chris' cologne as his lips crawl across the other man's neck. He's overcome with this need to touch anywhere, _everywhere,_ since he didn't get the chance to last time, so he reaches under Chris' jacket with his free hand, feeling the warm skin of his chest and torso, even through his shirt. Then he remembers where they are, and how they won't have much time before someone searches for them. He can't just explore so he settles for unclasping Chris’ pants and wrapping a hand around his half-hard dick.

Chris' head lolls back and he lets out a long, low moan, much like their first night together, which only makes him jerk Chris faster.

He strokes Chris a few more times, letting his thumb catch at the head, before he drops to the dirty tiled floor below him.

There's a dark, wild look in Chris' eyes, even as he says, "Dare, you don't have to--"

"I want to. Oh my God, do I want to," he opens Chris' fly a little wider and nuzzles at his crotch. Then he deeply inhales before pulling Chris' underwear down and tucking it under his balls. He licks up the shaft and sucks at the head.

Chris grips at Darren's curls. "O--okay, yeah. Right there."

So he keeps sucking in earnest, his hand taking care of what his mouth can't reach. He looks up to see Chris' eyes half-closed in ecstasy, his lower lip swollen and red, probably from biting it.

His own hardness strains against his pants and he wants to palm himself but he can't risk ruining this suit so he works on focusing on Chris' pleasure instead, trying to take more of him into his mouth.

Chris pets the back of his head. "C--careful."

He sucks even harder, and raises an eyebrow, to demonstrate that _yes, I'm fine. Thanks for the concern._

"Alright. I'm just, ah, saying," Chris replies, as if reading his mind. "By all means, continue, then."

Darren closes his eyes, running the pad of his thumb along Chris' balls.

"Ohh, ohhh," he taps Darren's shoulders, "I'm gonna--"

He puts a thumb up to indicate he's alright, but pulls off anyway to catch his breath. "I'm-that's okay."

Chris' brows furrow. "You sure?"

He looks Chris straight in the eye. "Yeah, yeah. Just do it."

"You mean, like--"

Before Chris can even finish, Darren's mouth is back on him, tasting the salty pre-cum at the slit, and then suddenly swallowing as Chris starts to come in his mouth. It's so foreign and thick that he wants to gag, though the taste is less unpleasant than he imagined, and there's so much all at once.

Chris squeezes Darren's shoulder with one hand and begins to moan again, muffling it with one of his fists. Chris only squeezes harder, but Darren brings him through it, continuing to swallow until he's sure Chris is finished.

He watches Chris' whole body tremor and his jaw slacken, relaxed in a way Darren's never seen before, looking so beautiful and vulnerable, even more than he was after they had sex.

Darren feels a familiar pang in his chest when he pulls off, allowing himself another moment of staring before remembering that they're in a semi-public bathroom and Chris is on a date with someone else.

He tucks Chris back in, zips up his pants, and then stands up to his full height. "Chris, I--" he starts, wanting to apologize for what he just did, except the only way it felt wrong was they were arguing and angry with each other before it happened, and maybe that Chris might have hurt someone he cares about. Darren regrets _how_ it happened, but he can't regret that it happened.

Chris looks at him for a second, and gives him a quick peck, as if it were something they'd been doing regularly for a long time. "Sorry," he murmurs.

Darren pulls him in for one more longer kiss, resting their foreheads together when they pull apart. "This isn't over. How can you be sorry? I'm the one who--Never mind. I should, um," he wipes his chin with the back of his hand, "I should go first."

He exits the stall and washes his hands. Then he sees Chris in the mirror behind him, adjusting himself. He catches Chris' eye again, wants to tell him that they should be more than this, than blowjobs in bathrooms and sex where they pretend to be strangers, but they don't really have time to finish the emotional part of whatever this is, so he clears his throat, checks his face in the mirror, and leaves.

He brushes his knees off quickly in the short hallway leading out to the tables, and takes his seat.

"You alright?" Joey leans in to ask.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't know. I cannot wait to get out of this suit."

"You'll have to wait a little while to do that, 'cause I definitely want to hit a couple parties when this is over."

Chris sits down next to his companion, the other man clearly expressing concern, crowding Chris' space.

Darren barely hears Chris' response that's he fine. "That actually sounds like a good idea, Joey."

\----

Darren stays out late for some of the after parties with Joey, though they both have to get up early in the morning for work stuff. He didn't drink that much; he's only suffering from lack of sleep, an entirely normal occurrence these days, which would be okay to deal with, except it's compounded with thoughts that Chris probably talked and laughed, and maybe even kissed and fucked the man he came to the show with (the guy's name is Will, he thinks, but Darren tries not to remember it). His stomach turns.

He passes Chris on the way to the makeup trailer but doesn't even attempt to make conversation with him. He doesn't know what he should say, or what to expect, and for the first time, that unsettles him.

Chris texts him in the early evening, as the work day is winding down.

_I understand why you'd want to avoid me. Sorry. Idk what I'm doing._

Darren sighs, and texts back:

_No, don't be. You don't always have to know what you're doing, Chris. We still need to talk, though._

Darren's walking to his own trailer, when Chris replies:

_Yeah, I guess so. Meet me at my house in a little while?_

Darren answers:

_Yeah, sure._

He impulsively decides to stop by Chris' trailer, because it's on the way.

Chris opens the door after a couple of harsh knocks. "Oh, I, um, I wasn't expecting you."

"Well, it felt kinda weird, not seeing you today." _I couldn't wait any longer. I missed you,_ he holds back.

"You saw me. You just didn't say anything," Chris chuckles wryly as Darren brushes past him.

"Yeah, it was a rough night last night. You've met Joey. He's quite a demanding date," Darren tries to joke, sitting gingerly on the small bed.

"I could only imagine. Of course, you _had_ to take him home with you."

He reflexively responds with a question that's been on his mind since last night, "Did you, take your date home with you, I mean?"

"Darren, I thought we were having this conversation later, when you're not wearing a sweater vest and a ton of hair gel."

"Stop deflecting."

He crosses his arms defensively. "That's none of your business."

Darren clenches his fists in frustration. "Wow, I'm suddenly having flashbacks to last night. How many times do I have to say it? I care about you, damn it."

"I know, and I can assure you that he hasn't hurt me."

“You know that's not what I'm getting at,” he stands up, crowding Chris’ space, _“God, do I mean anything to you?_ Do you remember what I said last night?”

Chris visibly flinches, though Darren didn't even touch him. "Of course you do. More than you know."

"Then, what are you doing with him?"

"Do you remember anything _I_ said? Look at us. We're not even together, and we're a mess, already. It shouldn't be like this."

“It's only like this because you ignored my feelings for months, Chris, and then you brought them up when it was convenient for you."

"I'm sorry that that happened. I thought if I ignored it, it'd go away. But it didn't."

Darren grabs his hands. "It’s not going away. _I’m_ not going away."

Chris wrenches away from the contact. "I can't do this. I should be with Will, exclusively. Let me go." he advises, his tone devoid of any emotion.

"I told you I don't want that. I want you. _All_ of you."

Chris doesn't say anything back; instead he closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh.

"Fuck, Chris, look at me," Darren pleads, his heart plummeting, as he cradles Chris’ face in his hands.

“I think you should leave.”

He drops his hands away from Chris. “Right after you tell me that you don't want me.”

“I--I don’t.”

“Were you indulging me last night, then?”

"No, I was being selfish, indulging myself, and it's not happening again."

"So, it was just a sex thing?"

Chris nods, his eyes distant but welling up. "I never gave you any indication that it was more than that."

"You’re a fucking liar. Right now’s a pretty good indication. If you didn't have any sort of feelings, you would be able to look me straight in the eyes."

Chris backs away. "Because I don't want to hurt you. This is an impossible situation."

Darren compensates, moving toward Chris. "That _you_ put us in. You could've not shown up at my door, and if that night was really about a one-time hookup, you could have rejected me last night, but you didn't."

“Why are you making this so difficult? Did you ever think that I can’t control myself when it comes to you?” he flops down onto the loveseat behind him, tears running down his cheeks. “That that scares the shit out of me, and I couldn’t take it anymore? You were right there, ready to confess to all these _feelings,_ so I took control back, at least for one night, but then it blew up in my face yesterday, when I noticed you looking at me again, the way you always do, except it felt like more somehow. No one looks at me like that,” he finishes quietly.

Darren sits beside him, and grabs his hands again, resting their joined hands on Chris' lap. “Then, be with me.”

“He could look at me like that, if I gave him a fair chance," Chris thinks aloud.

"No, don't do this."

"I have to. What kind of life would we have?"

He takes Chris' face in his hands once more. "A really fucking good one, maybe. This is ridiculous. Don't throw us away."

"We can salvage our friendship this way, still have a good working relationship."

"Tell me that _this_ is a good working relationship."

Darren surges forward, capturing Chris' mouth. He pries his hands out of Chris', brushing the drying tears away from his face.

Chris surrenders to it for a few moments, pressing their chests together, but then he pulls away.

P>Darren kisses his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. "Please, tell me that isn't right."

"I--I think we should be friends."

He stops kissing him, and groans, resting his forehead on Chris' shoulder. "You are the most stubborn person I've ever met, but this isn't going to make me stop caring." He pulls back to look Chris in the eyes. "It's not going to make you stop caring either."

"Can you at least respect my decision?"

"I can respectfully disagree, Chris."

"As friends are wont to do."

Darren rolls his eyes. He can't stay any longer and let Chris incinerate his heart further. Otherwise, he'll break down from refusing to accept Chris' wishes, and he'll do something really stupid.

He doesn't want to be that guy, so he stands up and heads down the steps of Chris' trailer. "I need to get changed."

"Bye, Darren."

He can tell Chris' voice is shaking, but he doesn't look back. He can't. "See ya," he answers, hoping for casual.

\----

The next time they shoot a scene together feels a little strained between takes, but they both play it off and attribute it to the current relationship of their characters, who are hooking up at a wedding and denying their lingering feelings for one another.

Everyone accepts that as the reason for their normally playful demeanor being off today, but they both know better.

"I'm not giving up on us," he whispers in Chris' ear when they're tangled together in the backseat.

"You'll have to. We're just friends."

Darren doesn’t press any further.

He’ll have to wait discontentedly.

\----

Chris doesn’t change his mind about pursuing Darren, and they don’t spend time alone together anymore.

Darren's feelings don't wear away. The hope doesn’t keep him afloat; instead it weighs him down like an anchor.

Darren glares at Chris every time he brings Will to an event or party, jealousy twisting in his gut. Chris just looks at him solemnly, before turning away to share friendly banter with Will.

Darren knows he’s lucky to even attend any of these events at all, despite them mostly being schmoozing and work, but he wonders how lucky he can be when he has to deal with the bittersweet torture of watching someone he really cares about, and maybe loves, be with someone else.

Still, he can't do anything but silently simmer, like he's done for months before, except, now he has the added knowledge of what Chris tastes like, and what he sounds like when he comes.

That knowledge won't go away, but maybe, one day, his feelings might.

\----

They avoid each other, except for shooting scenes together. Well, Chris does. Darren tries to engage him in conversation, but Chris always steers the topic back to their work, or he checks his phone between takes.

He knows Chris is busy but they always used to make at least a few remarks to each other during downtime, to ease the awkwardness of some of their more intimate scenes.

But, now, nothing.

\----

They’re at the same concert together in early March, with some mutual friends, including Dianna.

Chris avoids him the whole night, save for a stilted greeting, before he disappears into the crowd.

Darren ignores the stabbing pain in his heart for the rest of the night, because he doesn’t want to make a scene here, doesn’t want everyone to see how much this hurts him.

So he waits until the event ends and before he can even fully process what he's doing, he's parked in front of Chris' house. There are lights on, so he knows Chris must have arrived home already, because they're coming from inside the house. They're not the motion-sensor ones from his front porch. Darren thinks maybe it's creepy that he knows this, but they were friends first, before he ruined it with all this emotional bullshit, before they ruined it with fucking around.

They’re barely friends now, despite Chris insisting that’s what they should be.

Darren misses that, and tries to tell himself that that's why he’s standing on Chris’ doorstep, because he wants his friend back. He’s working overtime to clamp down the part of him that says, _Win Chris over. Make him yours. Make him love you._

Chris opens the front door when Darren knocks, a smile briefly flashing across the younger man's face, but then it dissolves into disappointment. "Hi," he greets faintly. "Why are you here?"

"Because you decided not to speak to me anymore and pretend I don't exist most of the time."

His eyes dart around quickly, to check if anyone has been witnessing their exchange. "Come in. I don't wanna have this conversation out here."

He pushes past Chris, who shuts the door. "We shouldn't be having this conversation at all. We shouldn't be fighting."

 _"We're_ not fighting. _You are._ You're making this more difficult than it has to be."

He's standing in the foyer, a safe distance from Chris. "No. You are. Why can't we be friends again?"

"Because last time I checked, that's not what you wanted."

"So, we can't be anything, then? I know how to compromise, Chris. I miss you."

Chris holds an arm over his middle. "I miss you, too, but I can't do this, Darren."

"Can't do what, be my friend?"

"No, I can't."

He steps closer to Chris, examining the crease in his brow, aching to smooth it away. "Because you still want something more, don't you? I told you that you wouldn't stop caring."

"I can't be friends with you." Chris looks down at his feet.

"Is he here?"

"What?"

He dares to come even closer to Chris, barely an inch away. "Will, that guy you're seeing. Is he here?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Because, you wouldn't let me in if he wasn't here. You don't wanna be alone with me anymore," he states flatly, trying not to let any bitterness or melancholy seep into his voice.

"He's not here. I didn't wanna have a private conversation on my front doorstep, but you're right. I don't want to be alone with you."

The words burn him, and yet, he's drawn to the pain, rather than repelled by it, like Chris is this etheral, untouchable, dangerous thing, that he has to approach, consequences be damned. So, Darren grips Chris' upper arm, causing the younger man's gaze to shoot back up to Darren's eyes. "You could have just as easily turned me away. Aren't you afraid of," he rubs his thumb along the front of Chris' bicep cautiously, "losing control?"

He nods, closing his eyes. "Which is why I need you to leave."

"But you don't want me to leave."

Chris wrenches his arm away, and raises his voice sharply, "Don't tell me what I want or don't want, Darren."

Darren nearly yells right back, matching Chris' tone, "It seems like you don't know what that is, Chris. You push me away, and then we fuck. You keep pushing me away, and somehow, I'm on my knees in front of you, like a dirty whore. You push me away _again,_ and still, I'm the one trying to mend all of this, because I can't give up on you. The worst part is, I didn't even think of giving up, when the whole time, that was probably the only thing on your mind."

"No, it wasn't. But it's the best option."

Darren grabs Chris' wrists, nearly pressing their bodies together, but leaving a sliver of space between them. "It's the best option to torture yourself every day by not even acknowledging me? How does anyone win that way? God, how can either of us do our jobs that way?"

Chris looks away, but doesn't attempt to create more distance between them. "Plenty of people work together without getting along."

"But we do get along." Darren's hands frame Chris' face. "That's the problem, isn't it?"

Chris' bright blue eyes brim with wetness, but they're open wide, as if he's having some kind of epiphany, when he finally focuses on Darren. "Kiss me."

"Chris--"

"Just, fucking do it, okay?"

So he does, because he can’t refuse. He doesn’t ask what this means, either. He doesn’t want to, not yet. Instead, he kisses Chris, backing him against the door with the force of it.

Chris wraps his arms around the small of Darren's back, closing the gap left between them.

Darren lets his own hands drop from Chris' face down to his neck. "Please," Darren finds himself begging, once again, though for what, he's not sure.

"Yeah. Take me upstairs and fuck me," Chris whispers against his lips in reply.

Darren doesn't quite want that. He doesn't want to just fuck this time, but if that's what Chris feels comfortable giving him, he'll take it. He'll take anything from him, so he kisses him again softly in agreement.

Chris kisses him back harder, biting Darren’s bottom lip and stripping him of his jacket and shirt. After Darren takes off Chris’ shirt, Chris pushes him, and Darren starts walking backward toward the stairs.

They're only up a few steps when Chris slams him against the wall with a harsh kiss, slotting a leg between Darren’s.

Darren grips Chris' hips, and then kisses him along his neck and shoulder.

Chris sighs into it, pulling at Darren's hair until the other man looks up at him. "Upstairs?"

"Yeah," Darren answers, in a daze from having Chris so close to him, and being allowed to touch and taste him so freely, after Chris denying him so much as a word. Darren gropes at Chris' ass, and he slides his tongue into Chris' mouth hungrily, like he's the only taste Darren ever needs. He lets Chris lead him to his room as they continue kissing.

Chris' hands cup Darren's face in response, but then, they fall away, as Chris fumbles for Darren's zipper when they're in the bedroom.

Darren finally reaches under Chris' pajama pants, and is rewarded with bare skin. "Fuck, Chris," he exclaims, nipping at Chris' bottom lip, while Darren's pants drop to his ankles.

" 's easier," Chris mumbles in explanation, kissing down Darren's chest, and grasping for Darren's cock through the opening in the front of his boxers.

He's not sure what Chris means, but he's not about to ask when Chris' lips deliciously brush against the stubble forming in the middle of his chest. Before Chris brings his mouth any lower, he teasingly slinks back up and kisses Darren's lips again, slow and dirty as he still tugs at his semi-erect cock.

Darren steps out of his jeans, slipping Chris' pants down his legs so he can run his palms over the curve of his bare ass. His fingertips graze the crack, experimentally circling the pucker of skin behind his balls. "Can I--?"

"Oh my God, yes," he breathes out.

“Need stuff,” Darren murmurs between kisses to Chris’ mouth and jaw.

“Not yet. Wanna feel you. Don’t wanna forget,” Chris grunts.

A sinking feeling settles in his gut at Chris’ words, like maybe this is the last time he’ll get to see Chris like this, almost completely surrendering to this electric charge between them, but he ignores it, instead focusing on the strange yet wonderful sensation of his dry finger against Chris’ asshole. “I won’t let you, but I don’t want to hurt you.” _Even though I already kind of hurt you, and you’ve been hurting me, too,_ he adds silently in his head.

Chris twists his wrist at the head of his dick.“ 's okay. I can take it."

"Are you--unhh, fuck--are you sure? Have you ever done this before?" He asks as he spreads Chris' cheeks and steers them toward the bed.

"Yeah. Not often, but yeah." Chris walks backwards until his knees hit the end of the mattress. He kisses Darren, Chris' hand working faster as Darren slips the tip of his thumb inside him.

"You should still use some lube or something. Shit. I-I won't last if you keep touching me." He pulls out, ghosting his fingers along Chris' spine.

"Mmm. Fine." His fist slides down to the base, and Darren catches the wicked smile across Chris' face before the younger man leans downs to suck at the head of Darren's cock.

"Oh my God." Darren's hand drifts up to Chris' hair in an attempt to hold him there, but then Chris pulls off with a wet pop, and pushes Darren's hands away.

Then, Chris flops onto his bed, searching for something in his bedside drawer.

He takes the opportunity to let his eyes wander along Chris' long, lithe frame, his hard, blushing cock bobbing between his legs. His fingers ache with the need to touch, and his cock aches with the need to be inside, to get as close as possible while he's still allowed the pleasure of doing so.

Chris lies flat on his back, rubbing his fingertips together with a slick substance, and then, he spreads his legs, bending his knees and planting his feet flat on the bed. He licks his lips and stares straight at Darren as he thrusts two fingers inside with a wince.

Darren's cock twitches at the sight, but concern momentarily triumphs over his arousal. He kneels between Chris' legs, rubbing at one of Chris' kneecaps tenderly. "You okay?"

Chris closes his eyes at the touch. "Nnggh, yeah."

Darren leans over him carefully to kiss him, a hand still on Chris' knee, while Chris' unoccupied hand curls around the back of Darren's neck.

Darren's eyes start to well uncontrollably, because for the first time since their sexual relationship began, Chris' small gesture demonstrates some sort of affection, that they're in this together, not only because of the orgasms, but maybe because of the feelings, too.

No matter what happens after this night, maybe that knowledge will be enough to sustain Darren.

He pushes back, with a palm to Chris' chest. "Can I--Can I touch you now?" he asks tentatively.

"Yes," he hears Chris pull out with a squelch. "Want you inside me so bad."

Chris blindly reaches for the bottle and hands him the lube. "Y--your fingers first, Dare."

" 'Kay." He squeezes some onto his fingers and rubs them together, like Chris did. "How many?"

"Two's good."

Darren nods, but Chris clenches around Darren's two fingers sliding halfway inside.

"Hey, we can slow down," Darren pauses.

"No," Chris picks his head up to answer sharply. "In me. All the way. Now."

He's still filled with worry at causing Chris any physical pain, but he pushes in further, his neglected cock practically begging for relief.

"Unghh. Yeah. Fucking, move."

Darren obliges, like always, crooking his fingers, pushing in as deep as he can, until Chris groans loudly.

"Oh my God. Three, please. Three, now," Chris whines.

So he pulls out reluctantly to add more lubrication to his fingers, and as he thrusts back inside, he kisses Chris on the mouth roughly. He fucks into him, breaks away long enough to tell him, "Can't wait to bury my cock inside you."

"Do it," Chris replies, biting Darren's top lip, and then licking inside Darren's mouth.

He takes his fingers out and breaks away again. "Fuck, Chris. Condoms?"

"No. No condom." Chris searches his face.

Darren smiles but quickly wipes it away, suppressing the elation that Chris trusts him this much. "Alright," Darren grabs the lube again, generously coating his cock, "but I wanna see your face. Don't turn around."

Chris' eyes flicker down to Darren's dick, and then back to his face. "Wasn't planning on it. Wanna see you, too."

He still doesn't want to think about what Chris might be implying, so he focuses on pressing the blunt head of his cock into the tight heat of Chris' asshole.

"Oh, oh. Fuck, so tight."

"Keep going," Chris ekes out, his face scrunching up as he digs his fingernails into the middle of Darren's back.

He pushes in further, withholding the urge to just slam into him in one go.

He eases in a little more until he's balls deep, with Chris' dick trapped between their bodies. Darren stills, giving them both time to adjust. Meanwhile, the only sound in the room is their heavy breathing. Chris' eyes have fallen shut, so he takes this quiet moment to brush a stray lock of hair off of Chris' forehead, thinking he's never been closer to him than right now, and he might not be ever again.

"Open your eyes, Chris," he chokes out.

His eyes fly open, a lovely bluish-green in the low light of his room. "I--I'm sorry," he whispers. "If I could fix this..."

He cups Chris' cheek with one hand. "But you can."

Chris captures his lips in a kiss before responding, "Just, move. Please,” with an edge of desperation and pain in voice.

He pulls out and thrusts back in slowly a couple times, until Chris' short fingernails stab into his back.

"Harder, Dare. Want you to fuck me."

Darren kisses him again before he withdraws almost all the way, and then drives back in, causing Chris to cry out.

“Yeah. Like that,” Chris adds.

He continues his rhythm, reaching between them for Chris’ cock. He grabs at the base of it as he pulls out and thumbs at the head as he slams back in.

“Ohh, unhh, yes,” Chris lets out, but Darren muffles him with another kiss.

He’s torn between wanting this to last, and wanting to let go, wanting to hear and see Chris completely lose control, for once.

No, he _needs_ Chris to come first, because he can't miss the sight to being lost in his own pleasure, so he jerks off Chris rougher and faster, matching the pace of his fucking, letting the rough pad of his thumb swipe across the slit in the head of Chris’ cock.

Darren stops kissing him, pulling away enough to watch his face.

Chris wraps his legs around the small of Darren’s back, holding him close. He closes his eyes again, arching into Darren’s thrust.

“Hey, look at me,” Darren prods softly.

"Mmm, so good."

"C'mon. Please." Of course he's begging, always begging.

Chris bites his own lip and looks at him. "Darren," he says, almost reverently, and clenches around him.

"It's okay. I got you."

Darren watches Chris' jaw relax, his brilliant blue eyes glaze over and roll back slightly as he releases between them.

Now that they're face to face and so close, he looks even more gorgeous than the last time Darren witnessed this.

His heart leaps when he realizes never wants to live without seeing this completely unguarded version of Chris ever again. As a splash of come hits his chin, his own orgasm crashes over him.

He nuzzles into the crook of Chris’ neck, begrudgingly pulling out of him. They stay quiet, a rarity for Darren, who feels like he doesn’t need to fill the space with anything other than laying his hand over Chris’ heart.

But, soon after, he breaks the silence, brushing his lips softly behind Chris’ ear. “It could be like this, y’know. _We_ could be like this, Chris.”

He nudges Darren, who rolls off to lay beside him. “But we’re not. We won’t be. Fighting and fucking. Is that what you want?"

Darren curls himself up into Chris' side, and kisses his shoulder. "This wasn't just a fuck, and you know it."

Chris looks over and says flatly, "You should go."

"No!" He yells defiantly in Chris' face, pulling his body away so they're no longer touching. "This meant something. I'm not letting you kick me out."

"Darren, I--"

"You give me a taste and then, you snatch it away. Don’t take this away from me, from us, yet. Please, lemme stay." He gently caresses Chris' hip and stomach, steering clear of the drying come and letting his hand rest there.

Chris doesn't say anything so Darren continues. "Can you let us be, for now?" he asks, exhaustion creeping into his voice.

Chris sighs and turns to face him. "This doesn't change anything."

Darren's fingers trace Chris' upper arm. "You keep saying that, and yet, here we are."

"It doesn't. No matter how much you want it to."

His toes graze Chris' ankles. "What do you have against us, huh?"

"Reservations. A lot of them. We’re not--We can’t do this.”

“Yes, we can. We already did.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then, make me understand how _this,”_ he inches closer again, pressing their bodies together, because he still can’t stay away, “is wrong.”

“It is. It’s all wrong,” he answers, with a shaky breath. “We’re a trainwreck.”

He brings a hand up to Chris' cheek, kissing him slowly, and memorizing how their lips move; when he gives, Chris returns in kind. Darren nips at Chris' top lip, then his bottom one, and Chris bites back, harder, mirroring Darren's actions.

"A really hot trainwreck. A beautiful one, even," Darren murmurs between kisses.

Chris pushes Darren onto his back, and settles over him. "That destroys everyone involved. No one survives intact."

"I don't give a fuck," he breathes out against Chris' mouth.

Chris kisses him, biting at Darren's bottom lip again, and then swiping his tongue over it. "I do."

"Not enough to stop," he counters, scraping his teeth over the spot right below Chris' ear.

He groans into the curve of Darren’s neck. “I--I should shower."

Darren can feel Chris hardening against his hip. “You should do a lot of things. You should let me get you off again.” He reaches between them, sweeping over the head of Chris’ cock.

“Darren,” he cautions gruffly.

“Let me stay.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, instead taking Chris in hand, listening to and feeling Chris' sharp, little pants reverberate against his chest.

When Darren mouths at Chris’ neck, Chris rushes out, “No--no marks.”

“I know.”

Darren flips them over, blindly fumbles for the tissues on Chris' nightstand, and half-heartedly cleans off Chris' stomach. He sucks open-mouthed kisses down the middle of Chris' chest, licking over the tacky come remaining there. The texture's a little weird, and it tastes tangier than he remembers, but considering it's another part of Chris that he can devour, he absolutely loves it.

He kisses along the jut of Chris' hip, carefully avoiding his cock.

"Dare," he whines, clutching at Darren's curls.

This only spurs him on even more, as he traces the crease of Chris' thigh with his mouth. Chris bends his knees and plants his feet flat on the mattress, instinctively spreading his legs further.

Darren laves at the curve of Chris' ass before licking a path to his balls, sucking one into his mouth.

"Fuck, Darren. Come on."

Darren can feel his own erection growing, and he wants to take his hand from where it rests over Chris' hip, and jerk himself off at how wonderfully desperate Chris sounds when he pleads for him.

He knows that Chris possesses him, both physically and emotionally. It affects him to know that he possesses Chris just as much, at least like this.

He sucks at the other ball, and licks up the shaft of Chris' cock. He takes the head into his mouth, and then, a little more, encouraged by the way Chris hangs on to his hair.

"Yeah," Chris grunts.

Darren relaxes his throat, while Chris forces Darren's head down, causing him to gag. Still, Darren persists, hollowing his cheeks out to accept what Chris gives him, until it becomes too much.

Darren raises his eyes up to silently ask Chris what he's doing.

"Not sorry," Chris blurts out quickly, maintaining his hold on Darren's hair.

He pulls back a bit, wrapping his fist around the base and filling his mouth with what he can handle.

He gropes around until he finds Chris' asshole and starts to finger him.

"Ohhh, ohhh. Shit."

Chris is all wet and open from earlier, so he adds another finger, pressing it in deep, and that's what sets Chris off.

When Chris comes, Darren swallows him down, and keeps fingering him. He watches Chris' body spasm, Darren's name falling from his lips, like always.

He wishes they could stay right here, buried inside each other, surrounded by the smell of sex, with no one and nothing existing outside this bed.

But they can't always have this, so he'll settle for stolen nights, if it means being near Chris. He sighs, pulls off to wipe his mouth, and pulls out of Chris' spent body.

He tremors from denying his own need, jerking himself to orgasm over Chris' still-heaving chest.

This time, Darren flops down next to him, too drained to confess any more heartfelt words. "I guess you should go shower now."

"Yeah, um, you can stay, if you still want to," Chris remarks nonchalantly.

He closes his eyes, feeling a weight lift from the bed. "I always want to."

There's a long pause in which Darren thinks Chris must have silently walked away, but then he hears Chris ask faintly, "Shower with me?"

Darren leans up on his elbows to see him still standing near the foot of the bed, biting his lip uncertainly. "You don't have to do this."

"It wouldn't be for anything. Just to get clean."

Darren tilts his head and raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, it wouldn't change anything between us."

"Yeah, I mean, what's a shower and a couple of fucks between friends?" Darren sneers. "What the hell do you want from me, anyway?"

"I--I still don't know. I know you deserve better."

He scoots down to the edge of the bed. "Then, give it to me."

"Stop acting like that's so simple, Darren."

"It's not, but it's not as difficult as you're making it out to be."

"I don't think we should have this conversation right now, again."

"We keep circling back to where we've been. There is _never_ a good time for this conversation."

"I'm getting in the shower, Darren. Join me, or don't join me." He storms off to his en suite bathroom.

Darren stays on the bed with his face in his hands while he hears the water turn on.

He came here to salvage whatever relationship he could with Chris, and if he leaves now, they’re still the mess they were when the night began, but if he stays, maybe they’ll be in a slightly better state, even if it’s not the one that Darren ultimately desires.

He decides to slip into the shower behind Chris, with a gentle hand to Chris’ hip.

Chris startles at the touch. “I thought you left,” he snaps, without turning around.

“I told you I didn’t want to.”

He turns his head to reply, “We all do things we don’t want to do,” before reaching for the shampoo and lathering his hair.

“Like pretending this is nothing?”

“It has to be nothing.”

Chris is still massaging his own scalp when Darren lifts onto his toes to scratch at Chris’ head.

“Chris, please let me.”

He drops his hands and steps under the spray again to let Darren rinse out his hair. “This still doesn’t mean anything,” he briefly pauses, “but, if it does, I’m not breaking up with Will."

Darren's stomach drops. He wonders why he's always comforting Chris when Chris is the one who's breaking him over and over again.

"I see. So, you want me, too?"

Chris turns to face him and grabs the soap, glancing down Darren's frame. "Maybe. I thought that much was clear."

"Are we done, then, or--?"

Chris rubs soap over his chest and stomach, and then over Darren's. "I didn't say that." He turns back toward the water to rinse off, and spins to face Darren again. "C'mere."

Darren barely has a moment to consider what this means because suddenly, Chris is tenderly cleaning off Darren's chest with a washcloth.

With this touch, all the warmth and hope that had been dying inside of him regarding his relationship with Chris starts to spring to life again.

Then Chris' hand moves lower, and another kind of heat settles low in his groin.

"Alright. I'm done," Chris clears his throat before he takes the same cloth and reaches behind himself with it.

He puts down the washcloth and adds a dollop of shampoo to his palm, and musses it through Darren's hair.

Darren lets Chris pick through his wet curls and drag him under the water to rinse them out. Chris runs some other product through Darren's hair, and then his own, allowing it to sit for a minute.

Chris cleans himself up, digging his fingers into Darren's hair again.

He's not sure what brought about Chris' change of heart, but he's going to appreciate this display of affection while he can.

Chris' fingers massage through Darren's hair, even after all the conditioner is gone. His hand drags down the side of Darren's face, the shorter man nuzzling into it.

Chris snatches his hand away and switches off the water. He looks up at Darren’s face, but he can’t stop his eyes from drawing downward. “We should probably talk about this.”

“Uh, yeah.”

Chris grabs two huge, fluffy towels from the bathroom closet and hands one to Darren.

Darren adds, “Are you suggesting what I think you might be suggesting?”

The gears whir in Darren’s mind at the possibility of being with Chris but essentially continuing his role of the dirty mistress.

It's what he's sort of accepted for the past few months anyway, but he can already barely handle seeing Chris with another man; this situation will only intensify his emotions and create more of a disaster.

As he stares at Chris standing there, facing the closet, and still very, very naked, he wonders if the possibility of having something, _anything,_ with Chris will balance out all the potential jealousy and heartache.

Chris wraps the towel around his waist, so it hangs low on his hips. “Look, I’ve tried staying away from you, and I can’t. I don’t know what else to do.”

Darren haphazardly dries himself, and throws the towel on the floor, chancing one last-ditch effort to make Chris change his mind. He pads closer so they're practically touching, his breath tickling Chris' ear. “Leave him.”

Chris' eyes flutter shut. "I keep telling you I can't."

He clenches his jaw. "Not can't. Won't."

"There are other factors besides what we want, Darren," he states in an almost business-like tone.

"Why do you have to sound so goddamn practical? Relationships don't really work that way."

"Last time I checked, we're not exactly in the real world."

"Don't give me that bullshit Hollywood excuse, Chris."

"It's ridiculous, but, like it or not, it _is_ part of our jobs, and we have to consider that."

"Sorry for falling outside of your considerations, then."

He turns toward Darren, and answers quietly, "You're a part of them. That's the problem. Also, I do actually like him, y'know."

Every time Chris mentions _him,_ it feels like a knife wrenching deeper and deeper in his gut. "So, I'm a problem?"

“Yes.”

"And this is your solution?"

Chris nods gravely. "Are you in or not?"

Darren supposes he’ll take any part of Chris he can get, rather than none at all, so he sighs in resignation. “Like I said before, I’m already in.” He slides a finger under Chris’ towel.

“Let’s go to bed, Dare,” he whispers, “before I change my mind.”

“Okay.”

Chris leads them into his room, takes off his towel, and puts on a fresh pair of underwear from his drawer. He gestures toward Darren. “You, um, clothes?”

Darren shakes his head, and lies flat on his back on Chris’ bed. “I’m good, I guess. I don’t need anything.” _I only need you,_ he doesn’t add, because he knows how cheesy that would sound. "C'mere. Please," he says instead.

Chris crawls in beside him, lying on his side, gingerly placing his open palm on Darren's chest.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes for the second time tonight.

"Don't. Just, come closer," is how he replies, because he doesn't want to think about why Chris is sorry. He wants to enjoy this while he has it.

Chris lays his head on Darren's chest, and lets their legs tangle together.

Darren can't help wondering if Chris is this openly affectionate with his boyfriend, if Chris even considers Will his boyfriend.

Chris' unwillingness to break up that relationship means it must be important to him.

Thus, Darren is sure that if he stays with Chris through this, especially without expectations of anything changing, he's in for a lot more pain.

\----

He's in for a lot more pleasure, too, apparently.

He awakens to Chris mouthing at his thigh, dangerously close to Darren's now-hardening cock. He’s pictured waking up with Chris before, but never like this. His fantasy always felt more like the beginning of a relationship, with lazy cuddles and kisses, rather than the continuation of an illicit affair.

Not that Darren’s complaining at the moment.

"Couldn't sleep," Chris mumbles. "Wanna blow you."

Darren grabs at Chris' hair. "D'we have time?" he asks groggily, because he’s not sure what time it is and they both have to work today.

"Don't care." Chris licks at the inside of Darren's thigh, and wraps his hand around the base of Darren's dick.

Chris' tongue teases the vein on the underside and stops at the spot just under the head, eliciting a, _"Fuck, yes,"_ from Darren.

Chris sucks at the tip before taking his hand away and quickly swallowing him down.

Darren thrusts into Chris' mouth. Chris doesn't object, only moans around him and takes him impossibly deeper.

Watching Chris' hot gaze as he bobs up and down, and feeling his greedy mouth completely enveloping him like he was made to do it, is what unravels him. He fists the sheets, coming embarrassingly soon down Chris' throat.

Chris pulls off and goes to wipe his mouth, but Darren bats at his wrist.

"Wait," Darren interrupts, his eyes drawn to where come dribbles down the corner of Chris' mouth to his chin. "Get over here."

Chris grins, crawling up to meet him, his erection rubbing against Darren's oversensitive cock.

Darren licks at the trail of come before sucking at Chris' bottom lip and kissing him hard.

Chris pulls away, breathing against his mouth as he ruts over Darren's hip. His body tenses, and then quickly relaxes as he comes with a groan into the curve of Darren's neck.

Suddenly, a faint beeping registers from the direction of Chris' nightstand.

"Shit. That's my alarm," Chris informs him, not moving from his position atop Darren.

"I thought you didn't care," he smiles, kissing up Chris' neck.

"I kind of do now," Chris sighs, leaning over to silence the alarm on his phone.

"You mean now that you're thoroughly satisfied?" His lips continue down to Chris' shoulder.

"I wouldn't call that thorough," Chris chuckles.

Darren flips them over. "How about I make it thorough?"

Chris' lips part and he searches Darren's face, but he pushes him off. "Maybe after work."

Then, Chris is sauntering off toward his bathroom.

Darren stares after him, a giddy feeling fluttering in his chest for the first time since their affair began.

\----

As much as Darren enjoys his day job, the days are almost always long, and this one feels particularly long, especially because he hasn’t seen Chris since that morning.

Until he checks his phone when they’re about head off for lunch, and notices a surprising text from Chris.

_Come to my trailer._

He’s not sure what to expect, but he shows up there once the scene he’s working on is wrapped.

One knock, and Chris drags him inside and shoves him against the closed door.

Chris kisses Darren's neck, mumbling,"Oh my God. Couldn't wait. Need you so bad."

Darren's cock strains against Blaine's tight jeans and he really, really doesn't want to ruin his wardrobe, or have to explain away why they'd be ruined. "Fuck, Chris, I--"

"Shhh. I got you."

Darren's eyes widen at his bold assurance and how close it is to demonstrating real feelings as Chris works open Darren's pants.

Darren ends up spending the rest of his lunch break with Chris' hand around him, and then his hand around Chris, until they're both panting and sated, lying together on the bed in the back of Chris' trailer. 

Darren sits up to straighten out his clothes. "I should really get going."

Chris looks so much younger, fresher, and maybe happier than Darren's ever seen since they've met. His face glows with something bright that Darren can't quite place when Chris pulls him back down. "Wait," Chris whispers, and kisses him, eagerly slipping his tongue inside.

Darren returns it, but then reluctantly pulls back, brushing a stray lock off Chris' forehead. "I have to get back."

Chris sneaks in another peck and smiles at him.

"We could be like this," Darren finds himself murmuring against Chris' lips, reminding Chris of what he said the previous night.

Chris' brow wrinkles, his smile flattening into a straight line. "Let's not ruin it, okay? Go back before somebody comes looking for you."

Darren internally groans, and kisses him one last time, stroking his cheek. “Are we still on for tonight?”

“Sure. Yeah,” Chris confirms, "if you want."

"Of course I want. See you later."

\----

When Darren shows up at Chris' door later that night after filming, he's greeted in much the same way he was during the afternoon.

Chris pushes him down onto the couch, and straddles him. "I wanna see how many times I can make you come in one day," Chris whispers as he reaches into Darren's jeans.

There's already a tell-tale tightening in Darren's groin as Chris nips at his neck and slinks down to the floor.

Chris makes quick work of fully exposing Darren and sinking his mouth over Darren's cock.

Chris' mouth feels just as amazing as it did that morning, forcing Darren to tightly grip the couch with one hand and the back of Chris' head with the other to keep from thrusting into that wet, perfect heat.

Chris taps Darren's thigh and gives him a slight wide-eyed nod, permitting him to let go.

Darren does, lifting his hips and nearly shoving at Chris' head to force him deeper. When he realizes he might have been too rough, he pets at Chris' soft, sweaty nape, but Chris shrugs it away.

Instead, Chris' fingers creep up to squeeze at Darren's thigh, and then brush against one of Darren's balls.

Darren comes without warning down Chris' throat, and Chris simply takes it, his blue eyes rolling back a little, as he pulls off and sticks a hand into his jeans.

"Lemme," Darren tries weakly.

"It's, uh, it's fine," Chris snaps back, continuing to jerk himself. "I mean, I got it." He moans and shuts, mouthing Darren's name as he releases.

Chris bites his lip when he opens his eyes, and Darren wants nothing more than to take that lip between his own teeth.

Chris flattens his palm next to Darren's thigh, intending to stand, but Darren grabs his hand, forcing Chris to look up at him.

"Chris, wait. Can I kiss you?"

Despite having Chris' mouth on him moments ago, it somehow feels appropriate to ask. He's still not sure what Chris wants or expects from him anymore, since he's only seen flashes of Chris' emotions between all the mind-blowing orgasms.

Chris gains leverage, raising himself up enough to breathe against Darren's lips, "No."

"Fuck, Chris, I--"

"Nope." He zips himself back up as he sits on the couch beside Darren.

"God, do you get off on denying me or something?" Darren notices his own nakedness and pulls his underwear up over himself.

Chris stays silent, save for his still-labored breathing.

"You do, don't you?" He looks over at Chris, who's slumped against the back cushions of the couch.

He opens his eyes briefly to look back. "That's not why."

"Then, what are the rules of this thing? Please tell me, because I'm getting emotional whiplash here."

"I--I don't know. I haven't thought about it," he shrugs noncommittally.

"Pshhh. Yes, you have."

"Fine," he pauses. "You can only kiss me on the lips when I tell you to, and you can't be all doe-eyed when you're around me. At least not in public. You don't even realize how obvious you are sometimes."

He wishes he could be more obvious about how he feels, actually. If he were still some semi-anonymous guy, he'd want to share how strongly he feels about this man with anyone who would listen, or, at least take him on a date. He doesn't exactly prefer these conditions Chris has set for them.

But if agreeing means he'll keep the tiny part of Chris that he shares with him, he'll do it.

Maybe, Chris will still change his mind eventually.

"I--Okay," Darren finally acquiesces.

"Good. You wanna eat something?" he asks, his voice even and seemingly unaffected.

Darren feels a sort of nausea rising in his throat, so he shakes his head, wondering where the man he held close last night has disappeared to, and where he hides his feelings when he's not paid to demonstrate them for an audience.

“Chris, are you okay?”

Chris stands up, eyebrows furrowing. “Yeah, I’m fine. Hungry, but otherwise, I’m good. Why do you ask?”

“Uh, no reason. Maybe I should go.”

“But you just got here. We can hang out, or whatever.” His eyes dart down to where Darren’s pants still hang open.

Darren glares at him, and zips himself up.

“What? I’m allowed to look, aren’t I? You weren’t complaining a few minutes ago when I had my mouth around your dick.”

He wants to bite back that it’s different now, that Chris can’t stare at him like he’s some sex object to use for his own pleasure, for as much as he likes multiple orgasms, and physical attention, those aren't the only reasons he wants to be with Chris. But he doesn't want to damage this fragile truce they have, because it could mean losing Chris completely.

"I like _you,_ not just your mouth. That's all," he settles on.

"Ugh. Are we going to have another conversation? Because I really can't right now, Darren."

"So, friends can't have conversations anymore?" The word _friends_ sits heavy on his tongue, and feels all wrong in reference to whatever they are to each other now. 

Chris sighs, a frown crossing his face for a second. Then, he turns on his heel, and walks toward his kitchen. "I'm making some food. I'll be back in a bit," he says in the same flat tone as earlier.

Chris plops down next to him a little while later and eats, glancing over at Darren every few minutes, but not saying anything.

Darren just sits there, wondering why he agreed to the terms of Chris' proposal anyway, and stewing at the tension between them, because he doesn't know how to mend the rift this time, or if he even should.

Chris changes his clothes, and when he returns, there’s still an awkward silence that neither of them know how to fill, so Darren gets up to leave, but Chris tugs him by the wrist, and eases him flat onto his back.

Darren knows he could escape, yet Chris’ weight pinning him to the couch feels warm and strong, like something he didn't realize he had been craving since the very first night they had sex.

Chris slides his hand under Darren's shirt and kisses his jaw, his neck, right above the neckline of his shirt.

Though Darren does want more than a physical relationship, his brain short-circuits and narrows to nothing but how spectacular Chris' body feels grinding against him slowly and deliberately, and how Chris' mouth sucking into his skin sets his whole body aflame.

Chris pinches at one of Darren's nipples, and Darren arches up into it.

"Ohhh, unhh," Darren grunts, "this is, um, this is nice, and new. I like it."

Chris doesn't answer with words, instead covering Darren's mouth with his own. His lips drags across Darren's jaw as he grinds harder.

Darren thrusts back against him, the dry friction still enough to make him stiffen in his jeans.

"I can't, I can't, I can't," Chris starts to cry out into his neck.

Darren soothes the small of Chris' back, and as painful as his erection is digging into his zipper, he asks Chris, "You wanna stop?"

"No, no. That's not--No. Take your pants off."

Before Darren can react, Chris shimmies Darren's jeans down his hips, and then his own sweatpants, enough that their cocks nearly slot together when Chris rubs against him.

"Please, let me touch you," Darren begs. "I'm so close, but I need--please."

"Yeah. Y--yes," Chris whispers brokenly.

Darren shoves his own underwear down, and then Chris', taking them both in hand as much as he can. "Ugh, you feel so, so fucking good," he says after kissing Chris' neck, his thumb working up over the head of their cocks.

Chris breathes harshly into his ear, sobbing when he spills over Darren's fist.

Darren keeps jerking him through it, until he comes soon after.

Chris slumps on top of him after he's ridden out his orgasm.

They stay silent for a long while, catching their breath, until Darren breaks the moment.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He wonders, his hand stroking up and down Chris' exposed back.

"No," Chris answers, his chest heaving against Darren's.

"You want me to stay?"

"Only for a little longer. We should, um, set a schedule or something."

Darren clenches his jaw. It seems kind of weird, and not at all romantic, to plan their trysts, but he supposes that's one of the reasons Chris suggests it, and that they would do that even if they were properly dating. "Like, make a date?"

"An appointment." Chris pulls his pants up.

“That’s a matter of semantics,” Darren chuckles, worrying his teeth over a small patch of Chris’ collarbone.

“Unghh. Fine. Whatever. Is once a week good?”

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t really like the idea of limiting this,” he sucks at the spot he was nibbling over, “to one day, but I guess that’s reasonable given our schedules.”

"M-more than reasonable. Careful."

"You taste so good. I can’t help it." He ghosts his lips up Chris' neck. He wants to mark Chris everywhere, to remind him of what they have, and what Chris might feel when they’re together, that Chris should be _his_ and only his, but Chris isn’t his, isn’t anyone’s, really. “Relax. I won’t leave anything permanent, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Good,” he says a little shakily, sitting up. “It’d be a bitch to hide.”

“Not that you could exactly hide it from your boyfriend,” Darren frowns, hitching a finger under Chris’ shirt to thumb across his hip.

Chris clutching Darren’s hand, effectively stilling it. “I know. I meant for work, but it’s good to know where your head’s at.”

"He's _your_ boyfriend, not mine, Chris."

He wrenches Darren's hand away angrily.

"Have you even slept with him yet?"

Chris averts his eyes and unnecessarily tugs at his shirt. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because you don't seem too concerned about him seeing you naked, and it's a valid question, since I've been inside you."

Chris' eyes grow a shade darker. Then he shakes his head. "'Course I am. That's why I said no marks, you idiot, in addition to work reasons. I don't wanna spend more time in the makeup chair than I have to."

"That's what scarves are for," Darren grins.

Chris rolls his eyes. "So, as for the schedule, how about I text you when I'm free and you lemme know if you can make it? If not, we'll just meet some other day."

"Sure." Darren bends to lift up Chris' shirt and suck at the middle of Chris' chest. "Sounds good."

"Dar _ren."_

"Oh, so now you wanna talk, when it's convenient for you?" He mumbles against Chris' skin.

"What about 'I like you, not just your mouth' ?"

Darren pouts. "I meant it. I keep telling you I don't want only this. God, I wanna taste you everywhere."

"I think, unhh, I think you've mostly accomplished that," he replies, ignoring the rest of Darren's declaration as Darren kisses higher.

"Mmm, mostly."

"And you're not finishing right now. You're not staying, remember? I have an early call tomorrow.”

"So?"

When Darren looks up, Chris raises an eyebrow at him.

"Think of it as something to, um, look forward to, Darren."

“Hmm, yeah. Fine." He mouths at Chris' neck.

If he's going to leave soon, he really wants to kiss Chris' pink, spit-slick mouth, but he doesn't know whether or not it's against the stupid, arbitrary rules Chris established, so he hovers near the corner of Chris' jaw. "I--I wanna kiss you so bad."

"Don't," Chris says softly.

"I can jerk you off, and you can kiss me but I can't kiss you?"

"Please, don't do this."

"C'mon. Why?" He presses his lips right next to Chris' ear, wants to reiterate that he's not a whore, but then Chris pushes him down and away.

"You should go."

He narrows his eyes at Chris. "Emotional whiplash."

Chris climbs off of him and walks upstairs. "Good night, Darren."

"Fuck," he mutters in frustration from his spot on the couch.

\----

By the time next week rolls around, they’re both too busy to get together, mostly because of work obligations, though Darren suspects that’s not the only reason.

He figures that Chris might want to spend time with his actual boyfriend.

He pretends not to feel too jealous.

He doesn't succeed.

\----

Darren finally gets to see Chris again, privately, the week after that, but Chris seems very distant, and not in the tug-of-war kind of way he usually is.

But Darren’s lips attach to Chris’ neck anyway, from the moment he enters Darren’s doorway.

Chris grabs Darren’s hips, the younger grinding into him and moaning exaggeratedly, but when Darren pulls away to look at him, his face looks contorted in pain, not pleasure.

“Hey,” Darren whispers softly, his thumb stroking Chris’ collarbone, “tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t do this,” he sighs.

“You mean right now or--?” Darren asks with concern.

“I never should have asked you to do this, either.”

“Are you breaking this off already?”

“It isn’t fair to either of us.”

He lets his hand trail down Chris’ chest. “That’s what I keep trying to tell you, Chris.”

“So, I’m letting you go, like I should’ve done from the beginning of all this.”

Darren pulls away. “Why? Why now?”

“I,” Chris looks away, “I’m with someone else. That’s why.”

"So you've said." Darren rolls his eyes, because that's not necessarily new information, but then, a sudden wave of realization rolls over him.

He pictures Chris in strobe-like flashes, a man with dirty blond hair stripping Chris of his clothing, someone else's lips on Chris' skin. Chris touching another person in the most intimate places, and then pushing inside him. Even worse, Chris being affectionate with this other man in the afterglow, smiling and cuddling with him.

He can't help the anger boiling under his skin when he adds, “Wait, you fucked him, didn’t you?”

“I can if I want to, Darren,” Chris fires back.

"That still doesn't answer my question. Did you fuck him just now? Because if you left him for me, that should tell you something."

"I don't--I don't wanna do _this_ anymore. It's fucking exhausting."

"It's exhausting _you?_ What about me? You're the one who's keeping me at arm's length, trying to decide whether or not you have feelings for me."

“I’ve been trying to tell you that I can’t do this for months now. I really,” he closes his eyes, “I can’t, okay? It would never work. I’m fighting this, fighting _you_ for a number of reasons.”

Darren chances getting a little closer again, but decides not to touch him. He adopts a softer tone, “But, you don't have to fight me.”

“Yes, I do, but I want you to know that, letting you go,” he clasps his hand over Darren’s wrist, “is one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do.”

Darren looks down at where Chris is touching him. “Then, don’t do it. Don’t shut me out. Shouldn't I get a say in this, too? Don’t I get to decide what’s worth fighting for?”

Chris stays silent for a bit, dropping Darren’s hand. “You say _I’m_ stubborn,” he chuckles wryly.

“Can you, just, stay with me, for a little while? Please.” Darren cautiously curls his hand around Chris’ hip. “We don’t have to do anything.”

“Darren, I--”

“Please. It doesn’t have to be forever.” Darren doesn’t add how much he wishes it _could_ be forever.

“Fine. Okay,” Chris shrugs lamely.

“Is it such a hardship to be with me?” Darren asks, the ache in his chest returning full-force.

“Sometimes, yeah,” he admits quietly.

The ache starts to radiate throughout his whole body. "So, will you stay or not?"

"I shouldn't."

"But will you?" He asks again into the crook of Chris' neck.

"You really want me to?" Chris inquires disbelievingly.

"I always want you to." Darren pulls away enough to look into Chris' eyes, still electric and startling after nearly two and a half years of personally witnessing them. "Why don't you believe that?"

"I believe that you believe it."

"Is that what this is really about? That you're giving up on us because you think my feelings will pass?"

"They will, eventually," Chris says somberly.

"If this was only about wanting to fuck around with you, you'd think I'd risk our friendship, and my career, to do that?"

Apparently, he stuns Chris into silence, because all he does is sigh into Darren's touch.

"Chris, I--" He's _thisclose_ to confessing that heavy four-letter word that would probably only complicate this situation even more, so he stops.

Chris already decided what he'd do long before he came over.

"C'mon, lay down with me," he finishes instead.

So, Darren takes him to his room and lays him down, fully-clothed, and rests his head on Chris' chest.

Once they're settled, Darren wonders, "You want this to be the end?"

"I want to be happy," is the answer he gets.

Darren looks up at him. "We could be happy, Chris. We could be just like this."

"For how long?" Chris picks through Darren's curls, clearly less inhibited about showing affection.

"Does it matter? I've heard the make-up sex is pretty amazing," he tries to joke, but the smile on his face feels foreign and wrong, so it falls away. Then, he adds, more seriously, “I’d try to make you happy however long you wanted.”

Chris’ hand stills. "That's...sweet."

Darren frowns. "I'm capable of being sweet to you, if you let me."

"I know, but you don't have to be."

He lays his head back down, tracing his fingers down the middle of Chris' chest. "Right, because there's someone else who does that for you."

"I'm sorry."

"You're not. Not really, or you'd leave him."

Chris sighs deeply. "I'm not going to, and I'm not staying over. Not anymore. Not ever."

"You never did." That fact stings even more than when he woke up to an empty bed the morning after their first encounter. "You were never going to. I should have fucking known."

He can hear Chris sniffling beneath him, but he's not apologizing or comforting Chris this time, not when Chris is the one who's still hurting them both.

Instead, he slowly moves away until they're laying beside each other, Darren's hand lingering on Chris' arm before he stops touching him entirely.

"You can go now," Darren says quietly, numbly, masking the heartbreak seeping through to his bones.

"Yeah. Alright." The bed shifts when Chris scoots upward. “See you whenever, I guess.”

Chris stands at the foot of the bed, in the periphery of Darren’s vision, when he adds, “I do care about you. That’s why I’m doing this.”

“Yeah. Whatever,” Darren scoffs. “Just go back to your boyfriend.”

He catches Chris' face falling for a second, but Chris quickly rebounds.

"Maybe I will," he retorts coldly.

Darren wants to spit out some vindictive or lewd comment, but his brain fails him, so he lets Chris walk away, lets him slam the door on his way out.

If Chris is done, then so is he.

\----

Except it's not that easy, not for Darren, at least.

He allows himself to sulk for the next week, though he pretends he's fine if anyone asks him how he is, even Joey, who probably suspects that something is off.

When Darren notices Chris on set, his co-star seems lighter, giggling and clutching Lea's arm. It kind of echoes the night of Chris' movie premiere, when Darren observed him from afar. This time, the outfit is all Kurt, but the expression on his face is so unmistakably _Chris._

There's a twinge in Darren's chest, and he's not quite sure whether it's collateral damage from being in Blaine's skin all day or returning to his own.

Either way, it feels like he imagined that he was ever so close to someone so beautiful and mysterious.

If only he wasn’t plagued by the vivid memories of Chris' face twisting in pleasure, or how he said Darren's name when he reached orgasm.

Those images are his to keep, however, even if the man himself isn't.

He jerks off to them and holds them close, pictures holding _Chris_ close after it all, because underneath the asshole that played games and broke Darren's heart, there's still the brilliant, sarcastic guy that captured Darren's attention.

Despite everything, Chris still hasn't let go of his attention, and he doesn't know if Chris ever will.

Phantom thoughts of what they could be, if anything were different, haunt him everywhere he looks, of cooking dinner together, of stolen kisses, and lazy days where no one exists but them. It makes the twinge grow in intensity, especially when he goes home and pulls out the tie that Chris left at his place.

He doesn't intend to return it, just as Chris never intended to return his feelings.

He wraps it tight around his hands and drinks a beer, or three, or four, enjoying the all-over numbness that both sensations eventually give him.

He thinks about texting Chris to come over, with the same frequency that he thinks about texting Chris to never come back.

To his credit, he doesn't do either, because he wants to be respectful and mature about it, and really, he never wanted the latter.

All he ever really wanted was Chris, and all he can do is keep wanting him, for who knows who long.

\----

Not too soon after that, a couple weeks later, Darren gets what he wants.

Well, sort of, because, at this point, he'd rather be over Chris than still want him.

They're at a party at Lea's house with some cast and crew, and their significant others, celebrating the end of filming for the season, though Darren suspects she may have had other reasons for throwing it as well.

In any case, he welcomes the distraction from work-related activities, or he would, if he could tear his eyes away from the couch, where Chris' boyfriend is perched in his lap.

They’re engaged in conversation, and laughing, when the guy starts kissing Chris’ neck.

Though it’s too loud amidst the chatter and music to discern clearly, he can tell that Chris is moaning by the expression on his face.

Darren’s stomach twists as he takes another drag from his beer, and is about to search for something stronger, when Chris’ blissed-out eyes meet Darren’s own.

His jaw and his fist clench in anger. He’s torn between screaming in Chris’ face to ask him what the fuck he’s doing, or just avoiding the whole mess, but he’s rooted to the spot, still transfixed by those eyes.

Chris seems to realize, because he holds Darren’s gaze tauntingly, even as Will’s lips skim across his jaw, and the two men kiss. Chris makes sure that Darren sees his tongue slipping into the other man's mouth.

Darren narrows his eyes at Chris, conveying how unbelievable Chris is acting right now.

Then, Darren retreats to the kitchen to down a shot. He chases it quickly with another beer, and heads to the bathroom.

Someone stops him with a palm pressed to his back.

" 's so unfair," Chris slurs into his ear.

Of course, it's him.

"Go away. You're drunk," he sighs. "Go back to your fucking boyfriend."

Chris ignores him or otherwise isn't listening because he continues in that rough, low voice he gets when he’s really aroused, "It's unfair that you look sooo hot tonight."

It stirs his own arousal, but he forces out, "C'mon. Stop." He opens the door to the bathroom, Chris grabbing onto his sides. "You're the one who let this go."

Chris pushes him inside and shuts the door. "Maybe I didn't."

He stumbles in, catching himself against the vanity. "Oh, so, that's what that little show was about?"

Chris' hands wander under Darren's shirt as he kisses at his neck. "The whole scruff thing really works on you."

"Deceit and drunkenness work on you, apparently," he chuckles wryly, but it melts into a groan when Chris' teeth scratch against his jaw.

"Fuck off," he mumbles against Darren's skin, soothing where he nipped.

"No, you fuck off. You don't get to keep doing this to me." His brain starts to operate again and his hands weakly aim to push Chris away, except Chris fully presses against him.

"Do I get to do _this_ to you?” Chris’ fingers circle the button of Darren’s jeans. “I bet I can get you off before anyone notices we’re gone.”

He appeals to the small sliver of sanity left underneath Chris’ drunken lust. “Chris, you’re going to hate yourself later.”

Chris sucks at the patch of skin where Darren’s neck meets his shoulder. “Where was this self-righteousness a month ago when you were fucking me, huh? We’re running out of time.”

"We already have." His stomach sinks as he cups Chris' cheek.

“C’mon. Don’t--don’t say that.”

He doesn't miss the slight tremor in Chris' voice. “Don’t get all sad on me. Please. You know I can't resist--”

"So, don't."

Darren squeezes at Chris’ side. “You said yourself you couldn’t do this anymore.”

“Everybody lies, Dare.”

The simple truth of Chris’ statement stings, because all they’ve been doing is lying to each other, and other people, since this twisted relationship began. It pisses him off that Chris can’t be completely honest with him.

He knows he can't do this, shouldn't be doing this to his heart, and his body, but Chris feels so good against him, and tastes even better. Plus, he knows Chris will be wracked with guilt in the morning and he's feeling vindictive enough to enjoy that right now. He reaches for Chris’ pants, and only sort of lies when he says, “I fucking hate you so much.”

Chris hastily unzips Darren's pants. “Hate you right back.”

Then, they share a biting kiss, and furiously jerk each other off. Chris sinks his teeth into the spot he already worried an angry red mark into, which is a little bit painful.

Still, it shoots pleasure straight to Darren’s cock, because maybe Chris is synonymous with pain and pleasure, and Darren’s body, as well as his brain, knows it.

Chris breaks away from Darren's skin long enough to whimper out, "Ugh, God, Dare, I--" but whatever he intends to exclaim gets cut off when he comes all over Darren's fist.

Chris is still shaking through aftershocks as he kisses Darren's mouth softly, and that's what sets the other man off.

Darren shoots into Chris' grip, and kisses back, a little deeper, one hand squeezing Chris' hip, the other still around his now softening cock. Once he's done, he buries his face in Chris' shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat mixed together.

"Shit. This is so messed up, Chris."

Chris' hand falls away. " ‘m sorry. Missed y--the way you taste," he remarks contritely.

Darren looks up to Chris' wide, almost innocent eyes, slurping come off his hand. His own eyes glaze over for a second, before he realizes he should clean up. He grabs Chris' hand roughly and runs it under the faucet. "You're ridiculous."

"Yeah, and you're gorgeous." He washes his own hand off, noticing Chris' dreamy smile in the reflection of the mirror.

He wishes he could always cause that smile, and not when they're in front of cameras, or drunk, or dating other people. He’s upset that he still _wants_ to be the cause of that smile. "Please, don't." His voice seems small, and strange, to his own ears. 

"But, you love compliments," Chris pouts.

He looks down to zip himself. "Are you even going to remember any of this in the morning?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Chris answers playfully as his fingers dance up Darren's spine.

He turns back around to face Chris. “Look--can, you, um...?” he trails off, gesturing to Chris’ pants.

“Oh, right,” Chris giggles, putting himself back together after struggling with his zipper for a bit.

"Oh my God. I cannot talk to you when you're like this."

"I think we should _not talk_ a little more, then.” He scratches at the front of Darren’s slightly soiled shirt. “You talk too much anyway."

Darren grabs Chris’ hands. “You need to get out of here, before anyone notices.”

"Mmm, I like when you touch me."

Though he knows it's the alcohol loosening Chris' lips, a dash of hope flourishes in his chest, but he crushes it down after he remembers who and where they are. "Just, get out, so I can take a piss."

Chris leans a hip against the vanity while Darren stands in front of the toilet. "It's not like I haven't seen it before. If you want, I'll turn around or something."

"Get. Out," he hisses.

"Wow. I don't remember you being this bitchy _after_ you've come."

"Do you want anyone to catch you in here with me, or not?"

"The attitude's kinda hot on you, actually," he continues as if Darren never responded to his previous observation.

Darren stays where he is, but turns his head toward Chris. "You're not making this any easier," he sighs.

"I take that back. You're not hot," he pauses. "You're kinda beautiful, even when you're bitchy and you look sad."

"Yeah, well, it’s your fucking fault."

"I know it is, okay? I'm an idiot, and you- you're an amazing person, and I screwed up so badly, and--"

"Yeah, you did, and I can’t listen to you apologize anymore. You made your choice and now you have to live with that, so if you’ll excuse me, can you _please_ get out?”

"I never wanted to--"

"Just. Please."

"Fine. Alright. I’ll go.” He strides over to Darren, and kisses him on the cheek before slipping out the door.

Darren relieves himself with a heavy sigh.

In the moments their encounter was happening, he was too blinded by jealousy, and how this would affect Chris, that he didn't even consider the consequences to his own psyche.

Now that he's alone, the emotional aftermath feels like ripping the stitches out of a wound that barely begun healing.

He grips the side of the sink, willing himself to hold it together at least long enough to escape the party.

He tightly hugs Lea goodbye, and says his farewells to everyone remaining there, save for Chris and his boyfriend, and then makes his exit.

About twenty minutes later, as Darren enters his own door, a text message, from Chris, pops up on his phone.

_Night. Heard you left._

He deletes it without replying.

He strips down and takes a shower, scrubbing the night off of his skin, but he still can't shake how satisfying it had been to hurt Chris, this person that he loves, as much as Chris has been hurting him.

Darren doesn't recognize himself anymore, and he doesn't like it.

\----

Darren's phone beeps with a message the next day.

_Can I come over?_

It's Chris.

 _I don't really wanna see you,_ he decides to reply.

 _I want to try again,_ Chris answers back.

Darren calls him, angrily greeting him with, "What the hell does that mean? You never properly tried to begin with. I gave you enough goddamn chances, Chris."

_"It means I want to do this right. C'mon. I'd like to see you."_

"I'd like a lot of things, too, but I'm pretty sure they're not happening, so--"

_"Please. I don't want to play games anymore. I just want you. That's all."_

Darren pauses, contemplating the words he's been wanting to hear for months now, and what they might mean. Is Chris finally ready to admit that he wants more, or that he wants something exclusive? Either way, all the wondering, waiting, and hoping he's done until now has drained him. He doesn't think he can handle any more.

"But, what exactly do you want from me?"

_"I really don't wanna talk about this over the phone."_

"Why should I even give you another minute? All I've been doing is _giving,_ Chris. It's fucking exhausting. I should have listened when you said to let you go."

 _"But I'm glad you didn't, because,"_ he takes a deep breath, _"I need you, okay? I didn't--I didn't want to need you, but I do."_

His heart softens at the admission. It almost makes him relent, makes him want Chris to come to him and beg for forgiveness, but he shouldn't want that, because there's a lingering fear that Chris will change his mind again, so he snaps, "You _need_ me? It's a little late for that shit, y'know."

_"I know. This is really hard for me. I'm not used to needing anyone like this, but I realized that I do."_

"But we've had to tear each other apart for you to do that. I've had to fight for every little scrap of you," he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation, "and I don't wanna do that anymore, Chris."

_"What if you didn't have to? I told you I wanna start over, and if you let me--"_

"I let you do a lot of things, and I shouldn't have."

_"God, why won't you listen to me?"_

"Like _you_ listened to me? I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time that I want you, _all_ of you, and you’ve ignored me every. Damn. Time. So forgive me if I'm not receptive."

Chris raises his voice, _"You're still talking to me, aren't you?"_

“Against my better judgment, yeah, because I still fucking care about you."

_"Can you hold onto that, please? Just, don’t let me go. Please."_

He sinks down onto his couch, wiping a hand over his face, because the strong feelings he still has for Chris are screaming at him, _Go to him. Listen to him. He’s finally opening up,_ but experience with Chris has proven maybe he shouldn’t succumb to instinct.

"Why? Why should I do that?"

_"Don't make me say it again. I--I need you."_

"I don't--I--I can't stand this, Chris. You keep leaving me over and over, and now, you spill your heart out, and you expect me to drop everything for you? Well, I can't be your second choice anymore."

_"Y--you never were."_

"Yeah, right. You've had a great way of showing that, then."

_“C'mon. I want you to be with me. I wanna do it right this time.”_

“I _was_ with you, but you weren’t really with me. You never wanted to be.”

_“I did. I do, but I am so scared.”_

“I’ve heard that before. It didn’t keep you from fucking around when you knew I wanted it to be more.”

_"I--I wasn't thinking, okay? How many times do I need to say I'm sorry, Darren?"_

"You've already said it too many times."

Every word he utters stabs him in the chest, because he does still care, but he doesn't want to anymore, so he continues.

"Last night, I realized that we are so fucking toxic to each other, and I don't wanna deal with that."

_"You don't have to. We can be different. This could be something."_

"It already was. You just didn't realize it 'til you couldn't have it, so spare me your sudden realization."

_"But, Darren--"_

"Bye, Chris," he interrupts tersely. He hits the _end call_ button before he can convince himself not to, thankful that Chris can't see him, because he hangs his head, his whole body wracking with sobs.

Behaving coldly towards someone isn't something he does often, especially with such deliberate intent, so he feels as if he's ripped his own heart out and left it bleeding on the floor.

It's still bleeding and beating for the one person he doesn't want it to, but Chris chose to disregard Darren's wishes repeatedly, and then, Chris comes onto him after _he’s_ the one who breaks it off. _Now, finally,_ he pleads for a real, honest connection when Darren doesn’t want to want him anymore.

He's severing the sexual and romantic ties that have strung them together for the last several months and letting go, for once, like he should have done a long time ago.

He wonders if doing that will cause his feelings to subside.

Probably not.

Of course, he'll shove them down by busying himself with other things, like always, like he should have done the night of Chris' movie premiere.

It's too late for regrets, though, and despite recent events, he could never really regret having a deeper understanding of Chris, except that they broke each other's hearts in the process.

And that his own heart is still breaking.


End file.
